


Gospel of Envy

by capsize (copenhagenborn)



Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU (Comics)
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Crack Treated Seriously, Fluff, Gen, M/M, Sibling Bonding, Socialism, ish Tim is in his early to mid twenties
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-20
Updated: 2020-10-20
Packaged: 2021-03-08 23:47:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,865
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27124738
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/copenhagenborn/pseuds/capsize
Summary: “You know, your family will be the first to go when the class war finally starts,” Cassie laughs and lets her head fall back as the smoke escapes her lips. She pointedly passes the joint over his head and hands it to Kon instead.“I paid for the fucking weed you know.” Tim huffs and scoots down until he’s lying on the floor, head on Kon’s thigh. “The least you can do is let me have some of it.”“See, that’s the kind of attitude that will earn you a ‘skip the line for the guillotine’ card, buddy.”“You think I don’t know that?” He grumbles. Tim leans up on his elbows and lets his head be moved around so Kon can shotgun the smoke to him. It still doesn’t go well, but Kon looks pleased and Tim is fine with waiting another round for his turn. “I’m trying really hard to change it. The money attitude thingy, not the guillotine I mean.”Cassie snorts, “Try harder money boy.”or, Tim's ventures into socialism.
Relationships: Stephanie Brown & Tim Drake, Tim Drake & Bruce Wayne, Tim Drake & Damian Wayne, Tim Drake & Dick Grayson, Tim Drake & Duke Thomas, Tim Drake & Jason Todd, Tim Drake & Kon-El | Conner Kent & Bart Allen & Cassie Sandsmark, Tim Drake/Kon-El | Conner Kent
Comments: 9
Kudos: 159





	Gospel of Envy

**Author's Note:**

> So while this is mostly a joke, there is a devastating lack of millennial/on the cusp of gen Z batkids who just doesn’t vibe with being billionaires in today’s climate. So enjoy Timothy Drake-Wayne and his ventures into ethical billionaire-isms after realising he has more money than he’ll ever need. 
> 
> Shout out to @Foone on twitter for sustainable alternatives to billionaire soup. 
> 
> Soft cw for weed use, and a hypothetical scenario of eating the rich. Nothing graphic but the concept of cannibalism is brought up. there is also mention of racial disparity in the American foster system. So if any of these affect you in any way, please be careful. 
> 
> the title is from the churchill quote: “Socialism is the philosophy of failure, the creed of ignorance, and the gospel of envy.”

Tim is lying on the living room carpet when he has the realization that while he and his siblings are generally on equal footing when it comes to the inheritance and available funds from one Mr. Bruce Wayne, Tim is considerably richer than all of them.

He is definitely more than a little blazed, so he takes another moment to let it sink in before giving his logic a pass.

Damian obviously doesn’t believe him when he lets them in on that little titbit of information. He sends Tim a glare and pointedly moves the snack bowl away from Tim’s hand. Tim only rolls his eyes as he goes off on another grumbled rant about blood sons and their inherent superiority to the rest of them. 

At least no one is killing each other anymore.

Jason doesn’t seem to care all that much as he turns away from the group to continue his explorations of the barren kitchen. Duke has already left the house at this point, and Cass only pats him on the head with a fond smile.

Dick doesn’t seem to know what to say when Tim brings it up, handing over the blunt with a huff. “I don’t – How is this – no, no. Why are you –“

Tim takes a big drag of the joint and lets the smoke leave him in a slow rush. “I get that it’s been a while since either of you took a course in anything related to math,” Damian grumbles something about his recent trig test, but Tim’s is on a roll here, “but infinity plus something is still more than simple infinity.” Tim explains plainly.

He’s always hated that particular paradox, but he gets it now.

The yearly bank statements from Drake Industries still spread out on his desk; the millions just lying around collecting interests and dust in his accounts, kindly kept company by the money from Bruce.

“Really? You wanna discuss fucking kindergarten logic?” Jason scoffs, sitting down by Tim’s feet with the most disappointing platter of snacks Tim’s ever seen.

He exhales deeply and shrugs, letting his head fall back into Cass’ lap. “There’s nothing to discuss, really. I just have more money than you guys.”

Even as he says it, he can hear how horrible it sounds coming from his mouth, but.

It’s just a fact; a completely objective statement that no matter how much you poke and twist it will never change. Even by excluding the pay he gets for being in charge of Wayne Enterprise, Tim as the sole successor of the Drake family also has the earnings from Drake Industries, putting him a solid chunk of change ahead of his siblings.

“And so what? It does not make any difference,” Damian says crassly, “I am still the best Robin father has ever had, and that is all that should matter.”

They all roll their eyes.

“No, no, Dami has a point actually.” Dick muses softly. “Once you hit a certain point of wealth, does it really matter how much more than that you have? I mean, while you in theory could buy more stuff than us, I don’t think it really affects our lifestyle all that much, if you follow?”

“No,” Jason says loudly and steals the joint back. “I’m sick of this discussion, can someone turn on the television so I can actually enjoy my high?”

Tim realizes how right Dick actually is later that week. 

“Kon, Kon, Conner!” Tim says softly and pokes Kon gently, “Are you awake? I need to show you something.”

Kon groans and bats at Tim’s hands. He pointedly turns away from the middle of the bed and pulls the covers over his head.

“Now that’s just plain stupid, dude. Now I know you’re awake,” Tim snorts. He scoots a bit closer until he’s pressed against Kon’s back, only the duvet keeping him from feeling the warmth of Kon’s body. “Wake up, please.”

“What?” Kon croaks, his voice still sounding completely messed up. But he moves back into Tim’s chest and holds up the covers so he can follow him in. “I was kinda sleeping here, you know. The thing everyone but you do at night when it’s dark outside?”

“No, forget that. This is more important.” Tim tells him urgently and puts down the tablet in front of him so they can both see the spreadsheet he made. “Listen, I did the calculations, and even if we continue to live like this with frivolous purchases and impromptu vacations – even if we get a fucking kid – we would still be good living off our interests, stocks and whatever investments we currently have.”

Kon blinks at the screen slowly. His hair is all over the place and his eyes are squinted despite the tablet being in night mode with the light settings all the way down.

“I don’t, you want a kid?” Kon asks confused and turns his head to look back at Tim. “That’s why you’re awake? Budgeting for a kid?”

“Oh, fuck no.” Tim says with a shake of his head. “The kid is just to illustrate that even with a significant increase in our expenses, we would still be fine.”

Kon inhales sharply and squeezes his eyes shut and just, continues to do that for a while.

“Kon?” Tim says softly and wraps an arm around Kon’s waist so he can place his cold hand on his stomach, “You’re not falling asleep again, are you?”

“I fucking wish I was,” Kon groans as he finally lets out his breath. “At least then I wouldn’t have to wonder why my boyfriend woke me up at ass o’clock to discuss his finances, no sorry. His excess of finances that are apparently stable enough to care for a kid on interests alone.”

“Well, actually interests alone would probably not –“

“Tim, Timmy boy, love my life.” Kon whines. He folds the tablet together and tucks it away on his bedside table before turning to Tim with a soft smile. “How about you just tell me what your problem is, so I don’t have to guess it? And then we can both go back to sleep.”

Tim sighs and lets his head fall back on his pillow. “What am I supposed to do with all that money? We obviously don’t need it, and it’s not like my family is in a hard spot. I’m just, I don’t know what to do, Kon.”

Kon exhales, scooting over until his head is on Tim’s shoulder and his arms wrapped tightly around his body. “Then give it away, babe. We might not need it but like. The world is quite literally dying, I’m sure you can find something to spend your money on to make it better for some people.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, definitely.” Kon responds softly and leans up to kiss him, “Now, let’s get some sleep, so you can start working on that plan of yours.” 

“Your plan,” Tim corrects lightly but lets himself be pulled further under the covers.

“Yeah, yeah. What’s mine is yours and all that, babe.”

. . .

Tim spends a lot of his free time over the next couple of weeks trying to come up with ideas of what to do with his money.

But nothing he thinks of seems like a very solid concept that can be brought to life. It’s either too big scaled for what he’ll be able to do with his money and reach, or there are just some problems he doesn’t know how to approach. 

He’s bordering on another crisis which would absolutely lead to another deep dive of research best performed at night-time when Jason comes through his door with his arms filled with groceries.

“Sup, dude.” Jason says brazenly and makes his way to the kitchen, “Kon mentioned he would be out of town, so I thought I would come by and make sure you weren’t dying without adult supervision.”

“Bold of you to call Kon an adult,” Tim scoffs. He follows him to the kitchen and takes a seat on one of the chairs by the breakfast bar. “I didn’t know the two of you talked.” He adds a bit stilted.

Jason shrugs and starts rummaging through his cupboard with pots and pans. “Have to keep track of you somehow, don’t I? And who’s better than the guy literally living with you and breathing down your neck when he’s allowed to?”

Tim rolls his eyes, “Check the cupboard by the oven if you’re looking for something bigger than that.” Tim tells him and kicks out a foot to show the door, “You make him sound so weird, he’s just very affectionate. Also, I thought you guys would be happy that I finally quote ‘let someone love me’.”

Jason snorts, popping back up with his arsenal of pots. He starts to say something but stops himself in the middle of it and lets out a sigh, “You know what, as long as you’re happy, eh?”

Tim hums suspiciously, “Alright Dick.”

“Fuck off, yeah. I’m just trying to be a good – “ Jason says with a huff. “Can you just let me work? Otherwise, neither of us will be fed tonight.”

Tim shrugs, “Sure man, whatever you say.”

Jason is in the middle of finishing their food when Tim realizes he might be the perfect guy to ask about his side project.

Tim’s usually not the best at asking for help. While he hated group assignments in college, he doesn’t mind teamwork when it’s well organized and everyone has clear objectives. But when it’s his own projects or problems, Tim is a firm believer that he should be able to figure out stuff on his own.

It just so happens that it doesn’t always work out that way.

So instead of pussyfooting around the subject, Tim decides on just asking how much money Jason thinks it would take to fix Crime alley. Jason rolls his eyes and nudges Tim off his chair so he can take over stirring the sauce bubbling away on the stove.

“You’re still on that money trip then?” He asks dryly and goes to work on the meat.

Tim shrugs, “I just might be.”

Jason takes a deep breath and leans back against the counter. He still has the knife handing loose in his hand as he watches Tim with an odd look in his eyes. It makes Tim’s entire body twitch.

He knows Jason still has strong ties to the community around Crime Alley, that he’s already working hard to make sure the people there are taken care of and everything doesn’t regress back to the chaos it once was. Tim also knows he doesn’t really have the right to insert himself in this conversation, but he wants to help, and he wants to help Jason make things better in any way that he can.

“I’m just asking, alright?” Tim says softly on the backend of a sigh as he stirs just a bit harder, “Don’t you ever think about the fact that world hunger could be solved with just a bit more than Bruce’s fucking pocket change? Isn’t it unbelievable that we could solve like most of the world’s problems if people just agreed not to hoard money when they don’t need it?”

Jason narrows his eyes, and Tim never knows when to stop when it comes to Jason, but maybe this isn’t the time to bring out the Marxist manifesto when he’s standing within stabbing distance with something sharp in Jason’s hand. But instead of inflecting another scar to Tim’s ever-growing collection, Jason just lets out a deep breath.

“First of all, it’s not something you just ‘fix’ by throwing money at it.” Jason says seriously but his shoulders stay relaxed, and he goes back to the meat without another thought. “They’re people, not something you broke, get it?”

Tim sucks in a deep breath and fails to hide a smile, “Of course Jay, I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, yeah. Don’t look at me like that, this will take a pretty penny out of that inheritance you’ve been bragging about. “

Tim laughs and bumps his hip into Jason’s, “Please, whatever you need, dude.”

Jason rolls his eyes and reaches for the plates, “Right now I just need you to sit down and finish your dinner, alright? And then we can look at the rest later when you don’t like you’re about to pass out from exhaustion.”

. . .

Tim has just finished a board meeting and is currently inhaling another cup of coffee before he has a conference call with an investor when Bruce comes through the door.

“Good afternoon Tim,” Bruce greets him warmly and comes around the desk to squeeze his shoulder before moving to the chair in front, “Your secretary said you had a few minutes before your next meeting, so I brought you this.”

Tim accepts the bag from the café around the block and pulls out a pair of bran muffins with an odd blueberry sticking out from the top. “I didn’t know if you had a lunch meeting later, so I thought a late breakfast would do as well.”

“No, yeah. I haven’t eaten yet, so thanks for bringing it.” Tim says kindly and breaks off a piece to eat. The muffin is very dry and almost grows in his mouth, but he also hasn’t had a solid meal for a while so there’s no way his stomach is going to let him stop eating.

“Was there, uh –“ Tim coughs and tries to swallow what he has in his mouth, “Was that the only reason you’re stopping by? Because while I appreciate the company, I do have more work to do, so.”

“Ah well, as a matter of fact, I did want to speak to you about something.” Bruce says with a smile, one leg over the other with his back ramrod straight. “I was contacted by my accountant a couple of days ago, and then by Sophie who does most of my PR work, to let me know that I apparently had donated quite a bit of money to – what was it? – twelve democratic campaigns across the country.”

And then he just stops talking like he expects Tim to just know what he’s talking about.

Tim huffs, “To be fair, it really is the same political campaign, just targeted to twelve different states.”

Bruce exhales deeply and leans back in his chair. “So you did donate my money to political campaigns?”

“Well, obviously I matched the donations with my own money. But I thought if the donations came from you, it would carry a bit more weight.”

Bruce frowns, “I’m sure that’s not true.” Tim tries not to roll his eyes, but Bruce doesn’t seem to notice. “Can I ask why you’re donating in the first place? You’ve never been all that vocal about your political leanings, and Wayne Enterprise has a long history of remaining apolitical. It just seems like a weird move from you coming out of the blue.”

Tim snorts, but he really doesn’t want to explain the reason behind his sudden quarter-life crisis.

“I didn’t think you were going to need it,” He says sharply and meets Bruce’s steady gaze head-on. “So I invested the money somewhere useful.”

“I’m not sure I would call that an investment.” Bruce says dryly.

“In the future, no?”

“Tim –“

“No, no. It is an investment in the future, and you should thank me for doing that.” Tim tells him. “Also, how can you claim being apolitical is still an alright stance in the political climate we have right now? Do you really believe we should only protect the citizens of Gotham and not at least make an effort for the rest of the world?”

“Timothy!” Bruce says sharply and looks around the room like the paranoid man he’s become.

“Oh, relax. I didn’t say anything I wouldn’t say on the streets.” Tim says with a roll of his eyes. “But go ahead and tell me you want the current president to sit another four years if he doesn’t somehow get that period extended and finally destroys the American democracy entirely.”

Bruce stares at him for an impossibly long time, long enough that Tim has to glance at his watch to make sure they still have time to wrap this up before his meeting. And then finally Bruce exhales, long and hard and enough to chink that perfect posture of his.

“I’m sorry, Timmy.” He says softly and leans forward in the chair to rest his elbows on the desk. “Of course, you’re right, of course, we should get involved when people’s lives are in danger. Even out of the uniform we should always be protecting others first.”

Tim lets out a light sigh, “Yeah, that’s what I thought. You’re welcome to donate more if you feel like, I still have the number for the campaign offices.” Tim suggests kindly.

Bruce huffs, a fond smile on his face, “You know, I might just do that.”

Tim finishes his muffins while Bruce talks about Duke’s schooling and whatever new dog Damian is trying to bring home.

“You know, at least it’s something that advances his empathy,” Tim offers with a grin, “Imagine if he had hyper-focused on computer games or whatever teenage boys do these days.”

Bruce huffs, “When you put it like that.”

“Hey, while you’re here, I wanted to talk about some new policies I was hoping to get your backing on before I present them at the next board meeting.” Tim says when Bruce starts to reluctantly look around like he’s about to leave.

“Oh son, you know I don’t really deal with the board anymore.” Bruce says with a smile. “You’re doing wonders with the company, Tim. I don’t think it would help coming from my mouth instead.”

Tim smiles oddly.

It still feels weird getting that rush of validation whenever Bruce praises him for something – Wayne Enterprise related or not. Even after finishing his MBA and managing the assets of two major companies.

“Thanks,” He says kindly, trying to force down the awkwardness. “It isn’t so much your support I’m looking for, but more to make sure we agree on some stuff.”

Bruce frowns but gives Tim a nod, “Sure, let’s hear it then.”

“Well, I’m sure you've heard about the changes I’ve made with Drake Industries, trying to make it a better and more sustainable company, so it can survive not only financially but also socioeconomically. I want to expand those changes to WE, starting with raising wages to something more sustainable for our employees as well as offering more benefits.”

Bruce continues to nod, “Alright, if you think that is needed then I definitely agree.

“We’ve always strived to be an attractive workplace and that includes more than just highly advanced facilitates and state of the art equipment, of course, it does.” He doesn’t look as excited for it as Tim would have hoped for but at least there’s no reluctance to be found either. 

“Also, I want us to make bigger strides towards becoming CO2 neutral. I had a look at the environmental report, and it’s not looking good.”

Tim pulls out a folder and drops it down on the desk in front of Bruce, the red numbers underlined with a thick marker.

“Ah, I had no idea.” Bruce says softly and picks up the papers. There’s a big frown on his face as he flicks through the reports, “Yes, this does not look very good.”

Tim stands up from the desk, “I have a meeting in a few, but you’re welcome to stay and go through the files. My secretary can contact the team who helped me with the analysis if you have any questions.”

Bruce hums absently.

“Well, alright then.” Tim says with a smile and shrugs on his jacket, “If you’re still around later, we can go out for lunch if you want.”

Bruce looks up briefly and returns the smile, “I think I would like that very much, Tim.”

. . .

Tim is smoking with Kon, Bart, and Cassie when he realizes not even in his own home can he escape his suffocating wealth.

“You know, your family will be the first to go when the class war finally starts,” Cassie laughs and lets her head fall back as the smoke escapes her lips. She pointedly passes the joint over his head and hands it to Kon instead.

“I paid for the fucking weed you know.” Tim huffs and scoots down until he’s lying on the floor, head on Kon’s thigh. “The least you can do is let me have some of it.”

“See, that’s the kind of attitude that will earn you a ‘skip the line for the guillotine’ card, buddy.”

“You think I don’t know that?” He grumbles. Tim leans up on his elbows and lets his head be moved around so Kon can shotgun the smoke to him. It still doesn’t go well, but Kon looks pleased and Tim is fine with waiting another round for his turn. “I’m trying really hard to change it. The money attitude thingy, not the guillotine I mean.”

Cassie snorts, “Try harder money boy.”

Kon just smiles dopily and passes off the blunt. “Don’t worry, babe.” He says sweetly and puts his and back in Tim’s hair, his blunt nails running over his head. “I’ll eat you first when the time comes, that way you don’t have to worry.”

Tim sighs and closes his eyes, “Thanks, Kon. That’s all I could hope for, honestly.”

“You know,” Bart says from his spot upside down on the couch, “While it sucks that like, almost all of the wealth belongs to so few people, it’s really actually a good thing.”

Tim arches his neck back to look at him and the bag of chips he’s managed to scatter across his chest with mild wonder. Bart doesn’t seem to notice the attention and keeps blowing out smoke rings that somehow manages to come out perfectly round despite his current position.

Cassie rolls her eyes and snatches the blunt from his fingers, “How is that in any way a good thing? One percent of the population sits on more than half –“

“No, no, no, no, yeah. Screw the one-percenters and Timmy’s entire family – no offence, Timbo,” Bart adds with a wince.

Tim shrugs, “No, no. You’re good.”

“ – but like, think about the bio-magnification. All that gunk stuck inside of them from being at the top of the food chain. You think sushi is bad for you, how about eating someone who’s used to having a shellfish course every night?” Bart continues unbothered, “You don’t even wanna think about prion diseases when you realize how much mercury can be stuffed inside those one percent bodies.” 

Tim groans and flips back around.

Cassie seems to have realized her mistake and is currently making valiant efforts to finish the blunt off by herself. But Kon actually looks to be genuinely interested in Bart’s stoned musings as he with an arm across Tim’s chest drags the two of them closer to where Bart sits.

“Oh yeah?” He says all bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, “What should we do with Tim’s body then?”

It doesn’t escape Tim’s notice that all of this was never presented to him as a hypothetical, but rather something inevitable he just had to accept.

Bart shrugs, but he does offer them a handful of broken up chips that Kon gladly accepts.

“I know it won’t like, feed as many people right away. But composting sounds like a valid option,” Bart offers plainly. “That way we dilute the heavy metals and toxin and all that bad stuff while at the same time we get some dope fertilizer for the crops.”

When Tim finally opens his eyes to face the culmination of all the wrong choices he’s made throughout his life, Kon is nodding along eagerly.

“Shit dude, Ma could get like the best crop of corn in years.” He says with a grin, “Think of all the fancy people food Tim’s been eating his entire life, I bet it would make for a killer apple pie.”

Tim groans. “Could we maybe stop talking about how you’re going to use my remains for desserts? I think that might be a hard limit for me.”

“Oh, so cannibalism is fine, but you draw the line at fucking pastries?” Cassie asks, eyes wide and surprised. Tim fucking hates her.

Tim rolls his eyes. He knows a lost cause when it’s staring straight at him. “You know what? Fine. Compost the rich, reap the crops and use our bones as sustainable Halloween decorations for all I care. But please pass me the fucking joint.”

Cassie hands him the almost finished butt with a smirk.

Bart pulls his head up and turns to look at Tim with narrowed eyes, “You know that’s actually not a bad idea. I might have to steal that one.”

Kon laughs and leans down to boop his nose, “Yeah, you do love repurposing, babe.”

“Yeah, yeah. Put my skeleton somewhere in the Kansan wilderness where you can remember the boy you once loved.”

“I’ll do that, Timmy.” Kon says as his smile turns just a tad softer. He finds Tim’s hand with ease and gives it a tight squeeze, “Might have to find you a funny hat to wear though.”

Tim rolls his eyes, “Something appropriate, please.”

. . .

”So not that I mind you paying for lunch but you could’ve just sent me a text and I would’ve dropped by your place, you know.” Dicks says kindly when the waiter has taken away their plates. “There’s no need to be so formal, Timmy. I’m always down for a hangout.”

Tim laughs, “Ah, I hadn’t even realized. I’ve been so swamped lately I just thought this would be easier.”

It’s not even a lie.

Tim has been working double-time trying to manage his day and night jobs while keeping up with his projects of giving away a big chunk of his money. It just seemed easier to have his secretary set up a lunch meeting with Dick to go over some of the ideas he had rather than on the fly finding a time that fits both of their schedules.

Dick frowns, “Well, remember to take care of yourself, yeah? Work is important but you need time for yourself as well.”

“I am definitely trying to do that,” Tim smiles, “Which uh, is kinda the reason why you’re here actually.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, I’ve been trying to figure out how to spend my money in better ways, reinvest them in the city and all that.” Tim explains, “I have already talked with the others about some of the stuff I want to do, but as you said, I only have so much time on my hands.”

Dick lights up with a bright smile. He reaches across the table and takes Tim’s hand in his, “If there is any way I can help, please let me know.”

Tim laughs and pulls out a folder from his bag, “That’s what I hoped you would say.”

At times, Tim might question his brothers’ love for him, and then Dick sits through his entire pitch on free college tuition without even one complaint. Instead, he nods politely and asks low-ball questions that only enforce Tim’s want to bring this to life.

“Ideally it would take effect across the entire country, but I obviously don’t have the power to do that right now. So I thought maybe it would be possible for Gotham University to test it out.” Tim says as the pitch winds down, “There is some relocation of funds and discussions of budgets to be done, and I would obviously compensate for any losses during this period. But I think it is an important thing to try out.”

“Yeah, Tim.” Dick smiles, flicking through the folder with eager fingers. “It sounds like you’ve really put some time into this, it’s really nice work.”

“So uh, do you think you and Barbara would be able to look it over?” Tim asks, “I know she’s busy, but if she has any input or like, can put me in contact with the university board I would really –“

“No course, Timmy.” Dick says, “I’ll drop by her place sometime this week and we’ll have a look at it. She’s always talking about doing more for her students, so I think she would be thrilled about this.”

“Oh hey, before I forget.” Tim says as they get up from the table, pulling out another set of folders. “I uh, bought some residential buildings around the city that I wanted to turn into like quasi rent-controlled apartments. But uh, I kinda bought a building in each of our names.”

Kon had been the one to mention the ever-increasing prices of Gotham real estate, and Tim – despite spending almost his entire life in houses he or his parents owned – did see how that would become a problem soon.

Dick frowns and follows him out of the door. “I’m mean, why?”

“I didn’t want people to think I was buying up the entire city,” Tim explains awkwardly, shrugging his shoulders. “Not that having everything in the Wayne surname is much better, but you know.”

“Sure, I do.” Dick says with a drawl. 

“So uh, could you bring them to the Manor and get them signed?” Tim asks with his best smile, “You know if they don’t mind. I’ll write in the group chat to let everyone know of course.”

“Why don’t you just bring them over tomorrow?” Dick asks confused, “Alfred said he and Damian are cooking the dinner, and I think Bruce wanted to try videogames again.”

Tim chuckles.

“Oh, I’m not coming.” He says as they walk outside. “I have my anniversary with Kon, so we’re going out.”

“Huh, you never mentioned that. Congrats Timmy.”

“Yeah, I did.” Tim says, “Remember, I asked for suggestions about restaurants and something to do after?”

“No, you didn’t.” Dick denies, “I would for certain remember if you did that.”

“I definitely did, though. I mentioned it in the group chat a while ago and – “ Tim stops and stares down at his shoes; a bit spotty from the rain, but otherwise fine. “Huh, no yeah. Maybe it was just Jay I asked.”

“Oh,” Dick says in a quiet voice.

He looks a bit weird when Tim looks over, but his phone is vibrating in his pocket and he’s already a few minutes late to a staff meeting. 

“Again, thanks for doing this Dick, I really appreciate it.” Tim says and leans in for a hug. “Please tell Alfred I’ll be there next week, yeah?”

“Of course, Tim.” Dick smiles, “See you soon, and say hi to Conner for me!”

. . .

Tim is still wearing the towel from his shower when he hears a rustling from the living room.

“I have a gun!” Tim yells tiredly as he makes his way through his room before continuing towards the door. 

There are too many people with keys to his apartment and only a handful of them are welcome without at least a week’s notice.

He turns the corner to find a pair of legs thrown over the back of his couch, a bottle of wine uncorked on the coffee table and something objectively horrible playing on the television. Tim lets out a deep sigh, “I thought Cass said you guys were coming for dinner tomorrow? As in I wouldn’t see you for at least another twenty hours.”

“Oh, don’t even front, bud. You fucking adore me.” Stephanie snorts. She sits up on her elbows and gives him a look, “You don’t actually have a gun, do you?”

Tim rolls his eyes and pulls on the shirt in his hands, “Of course not, repeal the second and all that. Now, what are you doing in my home?”

Stephanie falls back onto the couch, “I left you something on the counter. Oh, and bring a glass if you’re prissy about sharing the bottle.”

Tim groans, “I bet you opened a good bottle too. Some of those are saved for special occasions you know.” He pulls down a glass from the cupboard and gives it a quick rinse to shed any dust left over from infrequent use.

“Nothing exciting happened to you ten years ago, Timothy.” Stephanie calls back, “I thought you had given up on all of your earthly possessions, so please get down from that horse of yours. Also please bring some snacks, I cannot have a wine hangover tomorrow if Kon’s the one cooking.”

Tim huffs, “He tries, okay? At least he’s willing to learn. Cass said she would bring dessert, so there’s also that.”

He tucks a packet of cracker underneath his arm and picks up the Planned Parenthood brochure Stephanie must have left on the counter. “Uh, thanks? But I think Kon and I are covered.”

Stephanie looks up as he comes around the couch, raising her feet so she can place them back in Tim’s lap. She rolls her eyes nudges his thigh with her foot. “Yeah, but everyone else isn’t. Reproductive rights are human rights, Tim.”

“Of course,” Tim echoes softly, nodding his head slightly. He grabs her foot and gives it a squeeze.

“Also, Cass said you were looking for more work, so.”

Tim snorts and pours himself a glass. “I doubt she said that, but I’ll take the hint. I’ll figure something out, Steph.”

Stephanie gives him a gentle smile, “Alright, Timmy.”

Tim’s teeth are already aching with the softness of the moment. It’s a shame Kon isn’t around to see his advanced emotional IQ in action. So to make up for it, he pushes Stephanie’s feet away and curls up in his corner of the couch, wine in hand.

“So, what are we watching?” Tim says after clearing his throat, “Cass mentioned you started watching a new show and that it made you absolutely horrible to be around.”

Stephanie scoffs, “Fuck you, she didn’t. Cass loves me, and as oppose to you, she actually appreciates me.”

Tim snorts, “Sure Jan.” 

. . .

It’s Kon’s birthday, or at least the night of the party.

And Tim loves his friends. It might have been a process getting to the point where he can express those feelings, but he is able to now and he really does love them.

He just also doesn’t have a spleen, and despite getting his yearly influenza shot, he is currently on antibiotics to treat a secondary infection, and drunk friends are really not all that great to be around when you’re not yourself drunk.

Instead of being a downer, because at least Kon seems to be enjoying himself doing kegstand only allowed because of their impressively high ceilings, Tim retreats to the balcony with a cup of coffee and some snacks.

But despite extending from their bedroom, the balcony isn’t empty when Tim steps outside.

“Oh, Duke. I thought you would still be inside,” Tim says with a frown but sits down beside him in the free chair.

It’s mid-March and the temperatures have been on a rise, but it’s still too cold to sit outside at night. Tim looks at Duke’s bare arms and shivers, pulling his blanket tighter around himself. “Hey, you wanna borrow a jacket?”

Duke looks away from the sky and grins at him, “Nah, I’m good. I like the chill, actually.”

“Don’t come to me when you wake up with pneumonia, then.” Tim scoffs and turns back to his coffee, “You metahumans with your giant egos. Maybe I would be more comfortable if you wore a jacket.”

“Would you?”

Tim shrugs, “I don’t really care, just thought it was a bit unfair, you know. Being a delicate summer boy and all.”

Duke snorts and steals some of his chips, “You’re lucky Kon puts up with you. Only going outside when it’s above 50, never again using glassware, probably only having sex in –“

“Hey now, you might be stronger than me but I’m still older than you, so please respect me.” Tim tells him, “And I’m a pretty good hand-holder, I’ll have you know. So we’re good on that front, I would think.”

Duke snorts.

His and Tim’s relationship has always been different than what he has with his other brothers. Tim didn’t live at the Manor when Duke came around, and because they are so close in age, it had felt more like a friendship forming than the awkward progress of getting to see someone as a brother. Dick and he are too far apart in age, and despite how over it he might be now, both Damian and Jason tried to kill him at some point, and that is just something that doesn’t go away. Despite their much shorter kinship, Duke is the only one who hasn’t ever stopped treating him like a brother.

Duke clears his throat. “Hey uh, you still looking for ways to spend your money?”

“Always, what’s up dude?”

He is also the only one of his siblings to actually take him up on it.

Duke shrugs. He gets up to lean against the railing and looks out over the town.

“I feel weird asking this.” Duke finally says, exhaling deeply. “I have my own money, and if I’m so passionate about it, why not just use it, you know?”

Tim frowns. He doesn’t get up because he’s not sure Duke wants to be touched right now and instead settles on leaning forward in his chair.

“I don’t think it’s that weird,” He says kindly. “Of course, I wouldn’t know, but from what I understand, it can be hard giving up money when you didn’t use to have a lot. Even if it’s something you really care about.”

“It also feels really weird using Bruce’s money.” Duke continues reluctantly, “Even if he has enough of it, I still don’t feel like it’s mine, you know?” and then he snorts, “Well, I guess you don’t actually, which is kinda why we’re here, huh?”

Tim laughs, “How about you tell me about what you want to give money to, and then we can deal with your moral quandaries later.”

Duke looks back at him with a small smile. “The foster system, but maybe not especially Gotham’s? It would be more targeted at young people of color in foster care. How black children are less likely to be adopted, more likely to get a criminal record and age out of the foster system, stuff like that.”

Tim doesn’t know a lot about Duke’s time in foster care, but he knows that Duke still has a hard time out and about because of the color of his skin, even despite his Wayne family association that usually made the rest of the family close to untouchable.

Tim nods encouragingly, “I can do that, Duke, definitely. You wanna – with stuff about Crime Alley, I mostly defer to Jason and just signs the checks when he finds something new he wants to work on. Would you want it like that?”

Duke frowns and finds his way back into the chair. “Maybe, I don’t know?” He says and starts fidgeting with his hands. He sounds frustrated that he doesn’t know what he wants, his breaths just so audible when there’s no one else around them. “Would it be cool if you came up with a plan of organizations and stuff, and I could comment on that instead?”

“Alright, I can do that.” Tim says with a smile, “I might ask someone to help me, just to get someone with a bit more knowledge involved so the money is put into the right places.”

Duke exhales, “Yeah, that’s fine, Tim.”

Tim nods and finishes off his coffee.

“And like, thanks for doing this, and not like asking questions.” Duke says awkwardly.

“No worries, man. But if you want to talk, I’m here, alright?”

Duke nods soundly and Tim gets up from his chair, “I’m gonna go inside and check everyone’s alive. You wanna see if there’s still some food left?”

Duke takes one last look at the night sky and follows Tim to the door, “Yeah, that sounds good.”

. . .

It’s one of the quieter nights where everyone but Tim has something to do.

He is in the middle of a movie, lying on the couch and eating himself full in takeout when Damian lets himself through the door with a huff.

“Father said you were bored with the alien out of town.” Damian announces and drops his own bag of food on the table before making room on the couch. “He saw it fitting that I watch over you as you cannot be trusted on your own.”

Tim frowns and puts down his plate, “Did you get thrown out or something?”

Damian scowls and pushes at his feet until Tim gives up about a third of the couch, “I did not get ‘thrown out’. Father simply believed my presence would have more of an impact here.”

“You know, I’m a bit rusty on my Damian speak, but that is a yes, right?”

“Cease this nonsense, Timothy.” Damian says and reaches for the iPad thrown at Tim’s feet, “I shall put on a better movie to entertain us as conversation never seemed to be your strong suit.”

Tim snorts, “You ever heard that saying about the pot and the kettle?”

“I assume you would not have experience with this, but because of my extensive duties as Robin, I do try to limit my time in the kitchen, Timothy. So no, I do not know about the pots and the kettles.”

Tim nods, “Yeah, that’s what I thought.”

He looks over to see what movie Damian has chosen and frowns.

Tim’s French is passable at best, he has the accent down and he can order a meal without having to sulk about eating the outcome. But if he remembers their brief stint in Montreal correctly, Damian’s French is absolutely horrid and bordering on offensive.

_“Letters are meant to be pronounced!” Damian had exclaimed loudly when Tim had to take over the conversation for a second time that day._

_“And sometimes they’re not, that’s just how it goes.” Tim told him none too kindly._

_Damian scoffed, “You do not have any moral high ground here, Drake! You only speak languages written in the Latin alphabet.”_

It is also way out of the subjects Damian usually likes to watch movies about, but very much within Tim’s. So he stays quiet and lets Damian tuck his feet inside his blanket before going back to his food.

“There are drinks in the kitchen if you want,” Tim tells him as he turns back towards the movie, “I’m sure Kon has some of that sugary stuff you like.”

Damian huffs, “It is a supplement for people with a high metabolism to prevent exhaustion and – I shall be right back, there is no need to pause.”

They’re on their third movie and has since moved on to something easier for Damian’s ears when the main character adopts a puppy from a shelter.

“Hey, you ever thought about volunteering?” Tim asks softly and rustles Damian’s hair.

Damian shies away but keeps his head on Tim’s chest. “Why would I do that? As I mentioned I am –“

“Yeah, yeah. You’re busy being the best Robin Bruce has ever mentored.” Tim continues dully. “I just know you’ve been looking into schools and it would look good on your resume. Especially if you’re planning to be a part of the family business someday, I’ve heard the CEO doesn’t respond well to nepotism.”

Once that would have been enough for a fight – the outrageous assumption that Damian wouldn’t just be handed the keys to the kingdom as his birthright – but they’re better now. All Damian does is narrow his eyes and press his elbow into Tim’s ribs.

“Or maybe you could try doing something for others for once. There’s plenty of shelters that would probably love a steady hand around the rescue animals, and that way you don’t have to sneak pets past Bruce anymore.”

Damian scoffs, “Father is not the problem. His eyesight is remarkably fitting to his alias. It is Alfred who poses the real challenge.”

“Oh yeah, then I definitely wouldn’t keep trying.” Tim says with a wince. “So I’m guessing that’s a yes on the shelter?”

Damian grumbles something and scoots even further down into the couch.

“What? I can hear you from down there, dude.”

Damian doesn’t move but he does speak up, “What would I have to do? How does one even go about starting voluntary work, would there be an application process you think?”

“Oh, I don’t even know.” Tim laughs, “I did it through my high school, so there wasn’t much administrative work with pre-approved agreements.”

Damian makes a strange sound, and when Tim looks down at him, he looks very uncomfortable. But when Tim tries to move away, Damian grabs his hand and keeps him in place. “Uh, but I’m sure I can find out if you’re interested?”

Despite his previous convictions, Tim knows Damian sometimes has trouble with casual interactions that don’t involve his family and friends. Especially new people and surroundings where he’s expected to act like a young adult rather than a masked vigilante can be very overwhelming and result in him rashly withdrawing himself from the situation.

“How about I call some of the shelters on Monday and see if they’re looking for someone.” Tim offers and tries to keep his voice as plain as possible, “Then we can go together to talk to them, find out what you would have to do and if it fits in with your schedule.”

Damian hums and relaxes slightly into Tim’s body. “I suppose that would be an agreeable proposal.”

Tim smiles, turning his head to continue with the movie. “You know, Kon’s always talking about how Jon needs a new hobby. I’m sure he and Colin wouldn’t mind joining you.”

Damian looks really determined for a moment, but not even he can control where his blood pools. “I guess I will have to inquire about their leisure time, then.”

Tim rolls his eyes, “You do that, Dames.”

. . .

“Is there anything you want? Something you think should change?” Tim asks softly.

It’s a couple of hours since Sunday brunch but they’ve all stuck around the Manor today because of Jason’s birthday. Tim and Cass are lying on the big couch in the sitting room, Tim’s head in her lap as she runs her fingers through his hair, humming softly underneath her breath.

Cass smiles and rests a hand on his cheek, “Happy.”

Tim snorts.

He looks around the room to see Kon with Duke, Jon and Damian talking about some game they all started playing together. Jason and Dick have long since disappeared outside and Tim isn’t sure they’ll come back entirely unscathed. Bruce is caught in what looks to be a heated discussion with Stephanie, but the latter has a wide grin on her face, so neither Cass nor Tim see any point in interrupting.

Tim exhales with a smile and turns back to Cass, “You know, I think I’m getting there.”

**Author's Note:**

> keep the private jets in the hangar and let the batkids fly economy 2k20. 
> 
> again, this is mostly a joke, but please remember to vote (especially if you're american!!)  
> as always, take care of yourself and stay safe! :)


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